


Blessing or a Curse

by SherryBaby14



Category: The Mummy (1999)
Genre: Alcohol, Dubious Consent, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:21:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21862138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherryBaby14/pseuds/SherryBaby14
Relationships: Imhotep/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 106





	Blessing or a Curse

Most family’s heirlooms were jewelry, old photographs, vases, or even ornaments. Sure, yours had all of those too, but none as valued as the key. You picked up the strange object in your hand and opened it, loving how quick the spiked points set out. 

“What does it open?” You’d been obsessed with the question since you first found out it was a key.

“Nobody knows.” Your aunt’s voice broke your concentration. “Like a lot of the family secrets it was lost with time.” 

“Along with most of the family.” You sat down on your aunt’s couch. “Do you really think we’re cursed?” 

The family tree and fortune traced back to 1926, a couple named Rick and Evelyn O’Connell. They were your great aunt and uncle. You’d seen some dusty photographs, but saw no familial resemblance. Your great grandfather was Evelyn’s brother, but you looked even less like him. Maybe that’s why you felt you never belonged. 

“I’m not sure bringing up curses when you’re here for a funeral is fair.” Your aunt sat next to you. 

“I’m so sorry. That was rude of me.” Your Uncle was only buried yesterday. 

“It’s okay.” Your aunt reached out and squeezed your hand. “I know you’ve had your share of loss too. If the family is cursed, may as well be cursed together. I need a drink. Would you like one?” 

“Please.” You needed something to break the tension. “Are you sure you don’t mind me staying? Would you rather be alone?”

“Don’t be silly.” She walked over to the bar. “I live alone in a mansion in England. You live alone in a shoebox in whatever country you’re staying in now. Take off your boots and stay awhile.” 

“I never put down roots.” You held your hand out for the drink. “Maybe then the curse won’t catch up to me.”

“Smart girl.” Your Aunt cheersed you. “Now distract me from my husband’s death. Tell me some of your world travels.” 

~~

Two weeks at your Aunt’s and you were getting stir crazy. Ready to move on and resume trying to search for whatever it was you were searching for. She wasn’t ready for you to leave yet. So if you couldn’t explore the world you would explore the mansion. 

You could tell it was built for another time. Updates over the years had ruined some of the 1920s charm. You barely got cell reception and the only time the internet worked was if you were close to the router. These walls were thick, not designed for WiFi. 

The attic was your favorite space. Antiques no longer desired and an occasional random old thing someone didn’t want to throw away but didn’t want around either. You were looking at a box of dresses, holding them up to your frame and wondering if any would fit you. 

You twirled in front of an antique mirror, laughing at the style. BOOM! The thunder was followed by lightning. It took you off guard and you tripped. You tried to steady yourself, but your feet were off balance. You crashed into the mirror, knocking the thing to the ground underneath you. 

It happened so fast you didn’t know how to respond. Shards of glass were all around you. From what you could tell you weren’t cut, but you had to push yourself up with skill to avoid the pieces. 

“Shit.” That mirror was probably worth more than your car.

You hoped your aunt wouldn’t be too mad. You readied to push yourself up, going slow to not cut yourself, once you made it to your feet you looked at the destroyed antique. All over some thunder. 

You were about to leave to get a broom when something caught your eye. The base of the mirror. With the glass cracked you realized it wasn’t a base at all. It was a book. The spine gold and the black pages hidden behind the glass. 

“Hidden?” Why would anyone hide a book? And in a mirror? You reached down and grabbed it. It was heavier than expected. Like the pages were pure metal. Ancient symbols were on the cover, but that wasn’t what excited you. It was the shape. The strange sun. 

Your eyes flared with excitement. You no longer cared about the dress or the glass as you ran toward the stairs. This was it. The most important heirloom. The key. 

You were almost shaking with excitement by the time you made it to the sitting room, grabbing the relic you dropped to your knees. The sound of the rain hitting the windows background static to your own thoughts.

In seconds you had the key opened and put it on the page. It fit so perfect you almost fainted from excitement. Then you turned and the edging of the book popped open with such satisfaction. You flipped it open. 

Egyptian. Ancient. Like your entire family tree, you’d spent some time studying the culture. You grabbed your phone. No service. That meant you had to wing it with your little knowledge. Your fingers scanned the page. 

Each symbol you recognized you spoke the words out loud. Unsure what they meant. When you finished the page, BOOM! Another crack of lightning. 

You snapped your head to the door as it felt like all the air was sucked from the room and the power went out. Your head cleared and it sounded like the wind was screaming.

What frightened you more, was what they were screaming: no. A chill went down your spine. You shut the book and locked it again. 

“What a storm.” Your aunt walked in. “What’s that?”

“I found it in the attic.” You rose from the floor. “I’m so sorry, but the lightning scared me and I broke a mirror.”

“More bad luck for this family.” Your aunt rolled her eyes. “You want a drink? Power is out, not much else to do around here.”

“Sure.” While your aunt was turned around you took the key out and flipped the book over. 

Something felt off. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but didn’t think you should tell your aunt about the book. It was just the storm, and the fall on to all that glass. A drink would calm your nerves.

~~

The dreams started that night. You tossed and turned, fisting the sheets, sweat dripping down your brow. 

He was handsome, strong, powerful. His voice was deep and commanding. You didn’t know what he was saying. His language was dead, but he loomed over you, his hand stroking your cheek. 

Even though you didn’t understand his words you understood his touch. He was evil. Damned. But he was gentle to you, almost grateful. Like he wanted to thank you. But as his lips moved closer to yours your blood turned to ice. 

The same scream of the wind left your lips as you woke up in bed, your chest heaving. You glanced around the room. Alone.

It took a moment to collect yourself, your chest heaving from the nightmare. Who was the mystery man? What was he saying? Why did it feel so real? 

“Get your shit together.” You put your head in your hands. “It was a stupid dream.” 

Something in your core told you it was something different, but you shook away the thought as you laid back down.

~~

“You look like you could use some coffee.” Your aunt didn’t take her eyes from the television, you wondered how she saw you. 

“I didn’t sleep well.” You turned to see what had her attention. 

The headline on the news said: Raining blood in Egypt. The talking head was rambling about some soil getting in the atmosphere and it not really being blood.

“That is insanity.” You cocked your head to the side. 

“It’s on every station. Some people are saying it’s the sign of the end of days.” Your Aunt sipped her coffee. “But the more logical minds are talking about red soil dying the rain and global warming.” 

“What side are you on?” You sat next to her. 

“Oh honey.” She turned toward you. “The apocalypse has been happening for years. The world isn’t going to end with a bang, it will end with a whimper.”

“T. S. Eliot?” You didn’t take your Aunt for a poetry fan. 

“Stephen King’s opening to The Stand.” She went back to the television. “Want to go shopping today? Get out of the house?” 

“Sure. I want to be fashionable while I whimper to death.” You laughed as you went to the kitchen. 

~~

You felt his presence and shot up in your bed. He was sitting next to you and reached for your shoulder, being gentle as he pushed you back down. 

“No, no, no, no.” You repeated the word, but he spoke over you. This time in another language, but still not one you understood.

He was trying to calm you, the tone of his voice almost had a coo, but his hand on your skin, the way he touched you. It was as if pure evil was in his veins. 

“Please. What do you want from me?” You crawled back on the mattress until you hit the headboard and reached behind you for something to grab as he moved with you. Repeating words you did not understand.

His other hand came to your cheek too and he held your head in place, a warm smile on his handsome face. 

“Imhotep. Imhotep. Imhotep.” He was saying the word on repeat.

“I don’t know what that means.” You were caged by him. “Imhotep?”

A devilish grin spread across his face as he leaned closer to you, your foreheads almost touching. 

“Imhotep.” He lowered his lips. 

You didn’t want the kiss, but at the same time you were desperate for it. When his mouth crashed into yours you shut your eyes, your heart and brain wanting different things, but it was obvious this man was only after one: your soul. 

The thought made you open your eyes and when you did the kiss turned into a bone-chilling shriek. The handsome man was gone. You were kissing a mummy. 

The dream ended like the last, with you popping up in bed, your chest heavy and head spinning. 

“What the fuck?” You reached out for the glass of water on your nightstand. “Imhotep?”

It was gibberish meant nothing. But tomorrow you were going to do some research. Just to clear your head. You nodded as you laid back down.

“Only a dream.” You pressed your thighs together and noticed you were soaked. “Great, now you’re getting turned on from dead people.” 

You rolled your eyes before shutting them. You needed sleep.

~~

When you came down in the morning your Aunt was glued to the television again. This time the headline read: Egypt declares state of emergency. 

“Did the red rain get worse?” You took a seat. 

“No. It stopped.” She was glued to the television. 

“The after effects that bad?” You imagined the cleanup would be gross. 

“Nobody knows.” She looked hypnotized. “Here it comes again. Watch!”

The news switched to a reporter, walking the streets of Cairo showing the red grounds. 

“As you can see the red rain has stopped coming down. Scientists have samples and are testing the liquid, but there are already rumors of sores appearing on…” The news reporter dropped his microphone. 

Then the camera fell to the ground. Both people started walking, the only thing visible their feet. It almost looked like a parade was forming as a swarm of other feet entered the frame.

Even without the microphone, you could hear the one word they were chanting clear as day: Imhotep. 

The news switched back to the talking head right as you gasped.

“The strange word they were chanting, Imhotep, scholars and researchers all over the world have been consulted. Nobody knows what it means. The origin is believed to be ancient Egyptian, but there is no known translation.” The Anchor shifted his notes.

“It’s a name.” You didn’t look away from the screen. “It’s his name.” 

“They argued that earlier. No known records of any person in Egyptian history with that name. At least none of importance.” Your Aunt took another sip from her coffee mug. 

“Because he was evil. They wanted history to forget about him.” Your stomach hurt as you sat on the couch. “Put down your wine and listen to me, please. This is important.” 

“Wine?” Your Aunt looked away from the TV. “It’s 10 am. This is coffee!” 

“Your husband just died. Nobody is judging you. But please, I need you to listen.” You pointed to the TV. “This. It’s all my fault.”

“You’re started a cult in Egypt?” Your Aunt rolled her eyes. “Made blood rain from the sky?” 

“No. Imhotep did.” You swallowed. “But I summoned him.” 

You blurted out the rest of the story in a frenzy. Dreams, book, the key. All of it. By the time you were finished, you were struggling for breath. 

A concerned look crossed your Aunt’s face and she set her mug down. She reached out and put the back of her hand to your forehead. 

“Are you feeling alright?” She pulled out her cell phone with her other hand. “I’m going to call the Doctor.” 

“Listen to me.” You grabbed her shoulders. “It’s true. I can go grab the book and show you.”

“I believe you about the book.” Your Aunt sighed. “It was probably a stolen artifact. The house is filled with them. Seems the O’Connells weren’t too keen on leaving valuable things in their country of origin. But that’s all they are. Things. You can’t use them to summon Mummies.”

“But the timing, and the dreams! The book was in Ancient Egyptian!” You didn’t understand why your Aunt wasn’t putting it all together. 

“Coincidence.” Your Aunt handed you her coffee mug. “Here. I think you need this more than I do. Listen to yourself Dear, you sound like one of the nutjobs that call into the shows. So you’re having a dream man? So you read a book. Reading a book never hurt anyone. You are thousands of miles away from Egypt. Use logic. Those people were probably polluted from whatever was in the rain. It’s much more likely government testing than a plague. All that Imhotep stuff is just an infection.” 

You winced and glanced at the mug. Your anxiety ran out. She was right. Those poor people had been exposed to something and here you were thinking about Mummies. You took a gulp of the wine. 

“I’m feeling a bit stupid at the moment.” You glanced down. “Thinking a country that’s in a crisis was caused by a mythical being. When I say that out loud…yeah.” 

“Once this is settled down I will give the book and the key back to the Egyptian government.” Your Aunt took the mug back and took a swig. “Maybe then the curse on our family will be lifted.” 

That brought a smile to your face. It was the right thing. 

“And for heaven’s sake, if a hot man comes and visits you in a dream and you don’t want him, send him down to my bedroom.” She laughed. “After all, I’m on the market again.” 

You rolled your eyes. She was right though. Why not turn the semi-nightmares into fun times? A dream was harmless.

~~

When bedtime rolled around you were a little nervous, of course now that you decided you wanted to play along with your mind’s fantasy there was a good chance he wouldn’t show up. The thought kept circling your brain, making it seem like sleep would never come. 

You’d been tossing and turning for hours. Never once getting close to riding off with the sandman. At three am you were about to give up and head downstairs to watch a movie or read a book. 

As you sat up a hand reached out and touched your cheek. In the moonlight, you saw his features. Imhotep. He was here. You must have slipped into sleep and not realized. 

“You’re here.” This time you put your hand on his, turning into his touch. 

“Yes.” His English surprised you. “Because of you. For you.”

“And you speak my tongue now?” Your brain finally got it together in this manifestation of him. 

“It took a few days to learn.” He pressed his forehead to yours. 

Evil. He was cold and evil. You felt it in the contact and shuddered.

“You have nothing to fear.” He pulled away and tucked a hair behind your ear. “I will never hurt you. No harm will ever come to you.” 

“I believe you.” You draped your arms around his shoulders. “I shouldn’t, but I do.” 

A candle next to your bed came to life, you glanced toward it, unsure how it lit on its own. 

“A dream.” You reminded yourself. “None of this is real.” 

“I am not real?” His finger hooked under your chin and turned your head to face him.

In the candlelight you got a better view of his face. It was beautiful and smooth. You ran your hand down his cheek. He felt real.

“Is this not real?” He ran his thumb over your lip before dipping his mouth again.

The power and coldness of his kiss were strange. Your brain screamed to run and shove him off, but it was like his ice spread to you with a burn as your tongue echoed his movements. Your head started to go fuzzy as his hands were on your nightgown. He pushed down one strap and then the other, pushing the garment down to your waist. 

The kiss continued as you lifted your hips and he pulled down your panties with the garment, tossing them to the floor. His hand cupped your mound. You gasped into his mouth as his finger ran up your slit and palm pressed hard into your clit. One of his fingers teased your entrance and you grabbed his shoulders to steady yourself, moving to your knees. 

“How about this?” He pulled away and watched you with a flash of lust as he slid a finger inside of you with ease. “Is this real?” 

You moaned and squeezed his shoulders as he pushed his hand up. His palm rubbing into your most sensitive spot while a finger worked inside you. 

“It feels real.” You moved your head forward, wanting the kiss to resume. He smiled as his hand went to the back of your head. 

“Thank you.” His lips crashed on to yours as his hand went faster. 

Your hips started bucking on their own, the friction of his icy palm sending your body into a whirlwind. The dizzy head came back and you couldn’t continue the sloppy kiss. Your head fell forward on his chest as your lower body took priority. 

“I am here for you.” He kissed your neck. “You will come with me.” 

“I am going to cum now.” You were panting as your body began to bubble over. 

“Not yet.” He laughed. 

What the fuck? Since when did your dream turn into an orgasm denial? Even though he said no, his hand did not slow down and you were about to burst. 

“First, I will thank you.” He scraped his teeth on your neck. “Then we will leave.” 

The word “leave” cleared things up and your body exploded around his hand. Waves of heat and relief made you tingle as your throbbing slowed. Apparently, dream man who learned English in a day’s lessons didn’t include slang. 

His hand went to your shoulder as his finger left your body making you whimper. 

“Where will we go?” You kept your eyes on him as he guided you to your back. 

“Home.” He stood up and pulled at his robe. 

Your jaw hit the ground when you saw what your imagination had dreamed up for his cock. It was the largest you’d seen in your entire life. The sight sent more juices to your core. 

“Home?” You shook your head. “I don’t have one.” 

“You do with me.” He leaned over you, making you feel smaller than you were. “Forever.” 

He ran the head of his cock down your pussy and stopped. You tried to relax as you bent your knees. He pushed inside, burning and stretching in all the right ways. Your eyes rolled back into your head as you fell into the mattress. 

“Who are you?” You barely got the question out before you whined. 

“Imhotep.” He bottomed out and rocked his hips into you, his head poking at your cervix. 

It hurt in such a delicious way you lifted yourself to meet him, your nails digging into his biceps as he leaned down to kiss your collar bone. 

“What does that even mean?” You didn’t know how you were asking questions when he felt this good. 

“It means I am here for you, because of you, and I will be taking you home.” He pulled out, making you shake, but then pushed back in right away giving your toes a curl. “You will come with me.” 

“Yes.” You let out a moan, the answer in the dream being the same regardless of the form of come he was referring too. 

“Good.” He started thrusting faster, your bodies rolling into each other. “Enjoy.” 

You nodded. His eyes flashed and then he started going even faster. Fucking and filling you in ways you didn’t know you could dream of, his cock slamming into you with such speed your entire body felt alive. 

It didn’t take long until you were a mewling in chaos. Thrashing to meet him, but hovering in ecstasy. A layer of sweat formed over your entire body. All the rocking and pumping made you needier than you’d ever been in your entire life. 

“Please.” It came out as a whisper. 

“Of course.” He placed a kiss on your forehead. “Take what you need.” 

Your eyes popped open at his words. Take it. This was your dream and you were ready to cum. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer, flexing your body up as he railed you. Holding his cock inside your body at the angle you needed. 

The release started to form again. A coil in your stomach tightening like a spring. You bucked and dug your nails into his arms. 

“That’s it.” He cooed into your ear. “You will come with me.” 

The candle blew out, sending the room into darkness right when your orgasm hit. Maybe it was that or maybe it was so intense your vision blew. In the darkness you only saw an outline of him, but you couldn’t focus on anything anyway. Your head swam with pleasure and your body felt like it was on fire with euphoria. 

He let out a grunt and bottomed out, he was filling you, claiming you, owning you. Your head fell back into the pillow. 

“What a dream.” You regretted not taking the enjoyment the first night. 

“Sleep.” He whispered as he softened inside of you. 

It was an order more than an idea. Your dream vanished and you fell into unconsciousness.


End file.
